Fiat Justitia

"Keep up," Hadriana curtly said, turning to look where Fenris led Hawke barefooted in bonds towards the forum. There were two other elves with them too. There were welts up her arms, and the way Hawke walked, it was obvious her feet and legs had taken considerable punishment. Despite that, an elf in Danarius' household had spent the morning bathing and grooming the woman, and her hair was drawn back to reveal the bruising and cuts along Hawke's shoulders. The simple blue shift she wore was cut low, and carried a magical air - enchanted to suppress her reflexes and weight her limbs. Hawke looked at the woman defiantly, ignoring the eyes that turned their way - human slaves were more rare in Tevinter. To see an elf in her state was a common occurrence. The glances were subtle, but Hawke was an observant person.
Hopefully they enjoyed the view, she snidely thought.
When they arrived at the forum, they were ushered into an auxiliary amphitheatre, and Hawke lifted her head - Anders was already there. As were her mother and Bethany.
"Let me see her," Anders said, standing with his arms crossed and her father's staff in the crook of his elbow. She would recognize the lewd form of Andraste anywhere.
"She is here," Danarius said with mild amusement, beckoning with a simple gesture. Fenris marched her forward, and Hawke cringed as she was forced down to her knees. "A preview of the life she will soon live indebted to me for her crime. But it is a life, none the less."
"Oh, Marian," Leandra shook her head, covering the lower half of her face.
"Hadriana, fetch the arbiter," Danarius said with the same ease, turning to idly walk to the other end of the small amphitheatre. Fenris crossed his arms, standing ground and watching them.
Bethany lingered back as Leandra and Anders went to Hawke, knowing her actions in this public place would affect her standing as a mage in the city. There was little she could do to conceal the distress on her features, though.
"Let me heal you," Anders said. "Don't move." "No," Hawke said, her voice laced with fatigue. She looked up to him, "Save it for the fight. You can heal me when he's dead."
"What have you gone and done now, my foolish little girl," Leandra said, reaching out to comfort her but stopping her hand for the bruising. She planted an affection on her daughter's cheek instead.
"I'm sorry, mother," Hawke whispered, and took the kiss on her cheek. "You shouldn't of come. You shouldn't have let her."
"Believe me, I tried," Anders replied with a sigh.
"He couldn't keep me from seeing my daughter," Leandra frowned. Bethany stepped to put a hand on her mother's shoulder, and they withdrew.
"Come," Danarius said, expression impassive. "Let us begin."
Anders clenched his fist, a crackle of energy beneath his skin, and the flush of blue about his hand ebbed away. He looked back to Hawke, taking her cheek and urging her eyes to him, "I should have told you I loved you."
"And you can tell me later," Hawke impressed, raising her brow, "When he is dead. Don't frighten me like this, you're supposed to win."
"I know," Anders said, taking her elbow to help her up as Fenris retrieved the rope that linked to her restraints.
"I love you too," Hawke blurted, and in her periphery she could see Hadriana smirk. Anders touched her cheek once more as Fenris led her away.
The arbiter began to speak as Fenris tightened his grip, "That was foolish."
"Story of my life, mm?" Hawke replied, slanting her eyes his way. He was watching Danarius. "Now you'll speak to me?"
"No," Fenris replied, and the metal of his armour bit her bicep.
As the arbiter outlined the terms of the duel, Hawke tilted her head down, speaking just above the sound of her breathing, "If Anders wins, you'll be free. He doesn't keep slaves." When Fenris was silent, she continued, "He wouldn't make you ... do things to people you do not wish. You could choose your life. Unless... you enjoyed this?"
There was a crack of light and a nimbus of telekinetic energy rose around Danarius, drawing their attention back to the stone amphitheatre. There were wards on the walls to protect the building from damage. A less visible shield of energy glowed about Anders as he remained poised, a secondary mist whirling at his feet. The moment Danarius' sphere abated, a crackle lightning snapped from the crescent end of Anders' staff. The magister took it in stride, pulling Anders off his feet with a well of gravity. Recovering, they maintained their distance, considering the other before trading another series of elemental and spiritual attacks.
Fenris coiled his hand into a fist, and his grip grew on Hawke's arm as he watched the combat. Her expression was blank, though her eyes didn't focus on the battle. There was a dagger on Fenris' hip, a companion to the massive sword he had strapped at the ready on his back. Hadriana watched Anders with a peculiar curiosity, while her mother sat with her face in her hands. Bethany was the only one whose eyes were upon her.
Anders shrugged the hex as he took a step back, catching his breath and wiping the blood that trailed from his nose. He moved to manipulate the Fade, and it fashioned in the air, pulling at his will, and the crushing prison crackled up Danarius' limbs. The magister snarled in frustration, convulsing as it wracked him, but it shattered as he overcame it. In his distraction, he was hit square on by a crumbling rock.
Looking to Anders, Hawke saw the ease with which he casted. Much of the work they did pushed his magic to the limit - pushed his will to the limit. His limbs blurred with the twirl of his staff, another crack of energy erupting from between the crescent-shaped tip. When Danarius staggered, her heart leapt.
Panting hard, Danarius brought the dagger down upon his hand, and the air chilled as the bloody miasma sluiced at his feet. One of the elven slaves flanking him cried out, their eyes clouding white as they stumbled. Blood began to run from their eyes, nose and mouth, their limbs and skin withering, and Danarius flushed with their life energy.
A brilliant sapphire aura erupted along Anders skin, fracturing his concentration and enwreathing him in unnatural fire. His voice broke deep in the possession, "Do not touch them!"
Hawke could hear the soft gasp beside her, and only chanced a glance at Hadriana. To see the woman surprised was, well, surprising to say the least. Danarius was only partially fazed, and twirled aside as a fireball erupted where he had stood. Before the magister could recover, a couplet of arcane bolts smacked into him, but he recovered to raise his hands, the arcanum he uttered jolting the other slave to his will.
The elf lurched forward and ran at Anders, and the glowing man scarce had a moment to paralyze the slave before his blood began to boil. The world slowed as the glyph at his feet turned the world to molasses, and crackles of reddened magic entangled his limbs, contrasting sharply with the blue fractures. Danarius was upon him, and Anders spat blood as the magister clocked him with the blunt end of his staff. Deflecting another blow, the wreathing, weakening glyph pulled Anders to the ground, seeping blood from every orifice and staining his robes.
Hawke's expression collapsed as Anders fell, the blue light enwreathing his limbs as Danarius stalked over him. It was more than just his loss, it was the fear of looking away and having him die while she blinked. It was the weight of Fenris' hand on her head and the chain around her neck. The world threatened to slide away but she flattened her tongue in her mouth and forced herself to breath through her nose. Bethany clutched their mother to keep her back.
"Finish this with honour," Anders said, his voice broken between octaves and his eyes blue. The light was fading from them.
Anger rose in Hawke's chest, and she nimbly rose, only to have Fenris jerk her leash as she screamed, "You bastard! Isn't this enough? Just keep me!"
"He is too valuable to let die," Danarius said, and he glanced to the arbiter. "His life is forfeited."
"He is an abomination," the elderly woman replied, crinkling her nose.
"He has lost the duel," Danarius snapped. "His life and possessions are mine to decide. And I will not throw him away."